


The Hand That Fate Dealt

by The Bookwyrm (Amicitia)



Series: Inquisitor Trevelyan [7]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drama, M/M, Politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amicitia/pseuds/The%20Bookwyrm
Summary: The Inquisitor's hand is giving him problems.





	1. Chapter 1

In the months leading to Corypheus’ defeat, Inquisitor Trevelyan fought with fervour against the Venatori and Red Templars. At the final battle, he had taken along Dorian, Cole and Cassandra, three of his most trusted allies. Dorian because they were lovers, Cole for the young man had provided much insight to the Inquisitor, more so since he became a spirit, and Cassandra for she had been with him since the founding of the Inquisition and he knew she would see it to its end. His other allies were scattered about the Temple, each leading their own band of soldiers to fight the soldiers.

Trevelyan trusted them with his life, regardless of how they had been. Blackwall had caused quite a bit of a stir but Trevelyan saw him as the man he had always been, eager to atone.  
At the final fight, he summoned the dragon ally, fought the red lyrium dragon and finally came face to face with Corypheus. His words had no power against any of his allies. Although perhaps the most surprising thing the Inquisitor experienced was Solas’ departure after his enemy’s defeat. He had not expected the elf to vanish without a trace, without saying goodbye even. The two had formed a friendship but perhaps he was wrong on that. Still he had the others in the Inquisition to tend to, and for that he was thankful.

The celebration had been grand and for a long while after that, he was entertaining emissaries from various locations, noble after noble until he insisted they just meet him all at once and then that was it. The introverted man reverted to his quiet self, preferring to spend time alone in his room. His friends were afraid he would have another meltdown but he assured them that he was all right and just needed time alone. Given that Cole wasn't screaming his thoughts and he was still engaging them daily, they left it at that.

Until Cullen walked into his room one day to ask him about the deployment of some soldiers and heard cries of pain.   
The Templar rushed up the stairs towards the Inquisitor’s room and saw the man kneeling against his bed, holding his left hand. The pull of the Fade was strong in the room and the ex-templar reached forth to reinforce reality as he made his way towards the Inquisitor.

"Are you all right?”

The crackling noise Islington’s hand made faded away and the man stood up, shaking his hand.

“It'll… it'll pass,” the man said looking at his commander. “You… you wanted to see me for something?”

“Never mind that. What just happened? Is your hand causing you pain? You haven't said a thing about it,” Cullen said frowning as he folded his arms to glare at the Inquisitor.

Islington bit his lip and looked out at the Frostback mountains.

“It's nothing to worry about Cullen. More so, with Solas gone, there's nothing much that can be done about it. Only he had an inkling of what could be done to manage it and Your Trainer has no idea either.”

“My trainer? I don't have a trainer.”

“No Your Trainer, as in that rift mage who came to teach me about rift magic. We never could get her name out of her.”

“I recall her, a little out of sort.”

"Putting it mildly, yes,” Islington said with a sigh. “It's nothing and I don't wish to trouble people about it. With Corypheus dead, we should be focusing on rebuilding.”

"Is that why you've been hiding in your room?”

The commander got his answer when silence permeated the room after his question.

“Let me take a look at it.”

“Cullen there’s really no need to. It'll only cause you undue worry and it comes and goes. Most of the time it's fine.”

“Islington… let me see it.”

With great reluctance, the Inquisitor removed the gloves that he was always wearing nowadays. The blonde haired warrior’s face contorted into a frown as he saw the hand.

The damage was obvious. At the founding of the Inquisition, the Mark had been but a scar across the Inquisitor’s hand. The last time he saw it, it was months ago where it had spread across his palm, turning the skin around it black and glowing green. The cracks were tough and he wondered if his friend had any sensation of touch in it left. At this point in time, the Inquisitor’s whole hand was now blackened and pulsing green as it crept up towards his forearm. It was painful to look at.

“When did it become this bad?”

The Inquisitor shrugged. “I try not to think about it.”

“Does Dorian know?”

“Sort of… I started wearing gloves during our time together because I could see it made him feel uncomfortable although he was doing his best to hide his discomfort. Staring at it too long makes my head hurt as well. I suspect that my hand is partially present in the Fade. It would explain why it hurts to be looked at since the brain is trying to comprehend two different planes at once.”

Islington remained calm throughout. Cullen studied the man. There was a defeated air about the man at that, but the steady determination he had grown familiar with was also present.

“Why didn't you say anything?”

"To what end Cullen? None of the mages here would know anything and no one can do anything. It'll just cause people undue worry. Thedas has had enough to worry about than one man.”

There was truth in the Inquisitor’s words.

“But that one man helped kill a darkspawn from ancient legend and heads an organisation that has been doing good.”

“It's not just me who’s the Inquisition. We wouldn't have won without the others. Besides… it's already slowed as much as it can be.”

Cullen took a while to process the man’s words. “How long more do you have?”

“If I'm lucky? Probably a decade. At worst, maybe five years… I'll be all right Cullen. I've lived through far too many situations where I should have died and where others have perished. I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourself… I'm asking you of it as a friend.”

“Islington we cannot have you-”

“I don't want to have to make it an order Cullen. Please. I really don't want others to know. It's… I rather just bear this alone.”

The Inquisitor turned to head back to his desk and Cullen knew the conversation was over. He disagreed of course but he would respect his leader’s wishes.

“Take care Inquisitor,” he said as he left before he turned around, recalling what he had come for originally.

"Ah Islington there's the matter on the deployment of the soldiers…”

 

It carried on for several more months before Leliana and Josephine were privy to the secret the two men shared. It had happened while they were in the war room when the Anchor started acting up. Leliana was updating them on the reports Charter had given when there was a crackling sound and pain coursed through Trevelyan’s hand up to his neck. He stumbled after crying out in pain, leaning against the war table. Josephine gasped in shock. Leliana regarded him coolly but worriedly.

“Should I get Fiona?”

Cullen was the only one who remained stoic, but he wore his unhappiness on his face. “Has it gotten worse?”

“No… its all right. It’ll pass,” Islington grunted. His colleagues were silent though Cullen moved over to support the man and take him over to a couch where he sat down.

“You didn't answer my question Inquisitor.”

“I don't need to answer that question Cullen,” he said softly, the implications in his answer and tone evident to the warrior. Leliana and Josephine looked to the two men.

“Inquisitor?”

“It's nothing. My hand is just causing me some pain. It'll pass. Let's just continue.”  
There was a tone in his voice which made them aware that there was no room for questions.

“Very well, but I do not like this Inquisitor,” Leliana said quietly.

“Your opinion has been heard and noted Leliana… my apologies. I...,” he said realising how cold he sounded to his advisors.

Islington sighed softly before he began, “The Anchor is acting up but it's expected. Solas taught me how to manage it, disperse the magic and I've been… managing it well… it's progressing as slow as it can but Solas did warn me that it has a strength of its own. I use it as much as it uses me… and for better or for worse, it has bonded to me. Not even Corypheus could undo that bond. It'll ache occasionally but it's nothing to worry over.”

Cullen shot the Inquisitor a look and Leliana was perceptive enough to catch it.

"Don't lie to us Islington,” she scolded, but kindly.

The Inquisitor bit his tongue and looked away. “Look… I don't know what it'll do. I estimated I might have five to ten years before something happens to me. I really rather not think or talk about it until I come to that bridge. There's nothing that can be done for it. I've checked… thoroughly,” the man said, his voice quavering a little.

That was the only hint of fear that showed through.

There was only silence that followed. Islington took a deep breath and continued, “I rather not worry anyone. We’ll just continue as we always have been. I rather it that way than people… talking to me about what's going to happen… Dorian will be leaving soon for Tevinter to settle his affairs and of all the people, I rather he left with some peace of mind on his lover’s state.”

The women gave somber nods towards their leader and Islington smiled. “Come now, it's not as if it's my funeral or something yet.”

That eased the tension in the room and they resumed their work, chatting a little more openly about things. Cullen further broke the tension.

“If you squint, Lake Calenhad is shaped like a bunny…”

Josephine sighed at her colleagues, “Perhaps we should take a…”

Her saying was interrupted by Leliana, “Oh, I think I see it!”

Islington chuckled and work got sidetracked for a while as they searched to see if they could find any other animals if they squinted.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor says good bye, time skip, behold exalted council time

It wasn't long before Leliana had to leave for her new position full time as Divine Victoria. She had been interspersing her work with the Inquisition, slowly passing the duties to those she trusted. While she showed up for some meetings, now it was mostly just the Inquisitor, Cullen and Josephine. Charter took over some of Leliana’s duties along with Harding but it wasn't the same. 

Islington knew Dorian would leave soon as well for Tevinter. The man had been running around, settling his trip, sending letters and the like, securing enough funds. He even promised Alexius that he would tend to his family’s graves.

The Inquisitor sought out the man as he laboured over letters, muttering and cursing quietly in Tevene as he worked. Islington leaned over and wrapped his arms around Dorian tenderly, placing a gentle butterfly kiss on the man’s ear.

“It's not often I'm the one trying to steal you away from work. I admit it's quite refreshing to try and do it rather than have you doing it to me,” he said with a chuckle.

Dorian smiled and turned to return the kiss to the man’s cheek. “Well Amatus, I’m afraid I’m not that easily stolen with kiss,” the man replied as he pretended to turn back to the papers… although he knew how it would go down eventually.

“Mmm maybe but you are leaving tomorrow after all. What about an Orlesian tickler?”

“Well maybe… let me finish up here,” Dorian said before the two men headed back to Islington’s quarters.

A week later, Islington stood with Dorian to the harbour in Val Royeaux to bid him farewell as he left on the ship. Bull and Sera had come along while Cassandra had said her goodbyes at Skyhold. Sera herself had decided to leave as well to check on her Jennies.

“Take care of yourself Dorian, we’ll see you when we’ll see you,” Bull said with a grin, giving him a hearty pat on the back which sent the Mage stumbling and doubling over. Sera snorted and laughed.

“Well then, I'll take my leave as well here. Meeting a few other Jennies. There's a nob here that needs a bit of prodding, pie to the face and that sort of thing,” Sera said with a grin, giving playful punches to the men.

Islington didn't like goodbyes but he knew it had been long enough. “Come back safe and write often Dorian. You too Sera… or just send me something, like an arrow in the wall to just tell me you're there. No shooting at my hair. That is off limits.”

The horn of the ship sounded to indicate the final boarding and Dorian and Islington shared a hug before they parted. Sera left and then it was just Bull and him.

“So what are you hiding Boss?” Bull spoke once they were alone.

“I beg your pardon Bull?”

“Don't think I haven't been watching what you don't say or do Boss. You hide it well but it takes training to spot something is on your mind all the time,” the Qunari said grunting as he saddled his horse. The destrider was the only one in the stables which was sturdy enough to take the Qunari’s weight and Dennet had been rather proud when he got this one from his stables. 

Mounting onto his own Dalish All-Bred, the Inquisitor regarded Bull. “I appreciate the discretion Bull, but,” there was a slight pause when he remembered how practical Bull was. 

“Just my hand that's all. Nothing else, Fade stuff,” he said waving his good hand.

Bull gave a disgusted grunt at that. “Huh, well least it's been a good run.”

“Bull I’m not dying, it's just bothering me.”

“Ah right,” the mercenary captain said looking embarrassed.

They rode back quietly to Skyhold, the Inquisitor riding point but he had his hood up and was in quiet contemplation.

Bull pulled his horse forward next to the Inquisitor, clearing his throat. “So the boys and I might see about taking some jobs outside of the Inquisition. It's getting kind of boring.”

“All right Bull,” came the quiet reply. He expected more to come but all he heard was the slow clopping of their horses’ hooves against the ground.

“Uh… we’ll still be contactable and around if you need us.”

“I know.”

It didn't take a fool to realise the Inquisitor didn't want to speak so they rode the rest of the way in silence. On reaching the fortress, Islington bid Bull farewell, gave him a pat on the shoulder and retired to his quarters.

Alone he breathed quietly and pulled out his diary as he began writing. There were too many emotions and he needed to process them. So many of his friends were leaving together but for different reasons. He resented that, after their time together; but he knew they had their own lives to go back to and it would end some day. He wrote late into the night, expressing his thoughts to his missing companions.

The morning after, he had a good drink and chat with Bull and his chargers, reminiscing about their time together in the Inquisition before they parted ways. 

Things fell into motion day after day, the Inquisitor adjusted, as did the whole of Skyhold. There were still things to do and people to see, and work to be done. Leliana communicated often and Harding and Charter responded on her behalf, guiding the scouts and spies of the Inquisition. Trevelyan wrote letters often to his friends, receiving their responses soon enough via ravens. 

 

It was weeks later that summons from the Exalted Council came. Leliana had been fending them off well enough but alas, they could only avoid it for so long. 

Islington stood in front of the mirror as he adjusted his attire. It was different just in colour from his usual preferred clothings. While he was casual at times in dealing with others, the man still preferred formalwear. Mostly because he knew he looked handsome in it. A number of important people would be there. Divine Victoria and representatives from Feralden and Orlais. It was the same old song again to be honest. The man sighed softly as he placed the final touches of his uniform into place.

His horse was ready with its regal adornments. He certainly didn't like it, but the colour had been established long ago to go with the Inquisition's uniform. It blended well, he had to admit, but he disliked the lack of black and white. It was his colour preference despite what his other friends said. It went well with anything as well as his hair. With the red uniform, his hair made him look out of place. A glance was given to his glowing hand when he thought about things that made him out of place and conceded that he had way too many things that already marked him as an oddball. At the Circle, it had been his white hair and eyes, now it was his hand. He had his travel pack ready, filled with less of what he took into the field, and more of his books and clothings. It was time to play the noble. 

He had some interactions with the noble sorts, although it was mostly with those in the Free Marches. As a noble in Ostwick, he had some privileges that others didn’t, one of which was that he could spend time with his family when they requested for it. Initially, they had been wary of him being a mage. How was his control over his magic was like and the such concerned his parents. He was not brought up for a while, being named the so-called black white-haired sheep of the family. That was until his brother reported that he was advancing well within the Circle. Prior to his Harrowing, he was not allowed to leave the tower, but his mother had sent tutors, enabling him to have elocution lessons and made sure that he knew his dinner fork from a salad fork. A glance to his knuckles reminded him of the rappings he received when he made a mistake. 

Once he had been Harrowed, his mother had requested for him to return home when he could and for most of his years as a mage, Islington had spent his weekends with his family. Ultimately he had decided he preferred the company of his fellow mages than his family. His mother tended to treat him like a child. His father was as distant as he had ever known, concerned with ruling and his people. And his mother loved to drag him on shopping trips as he was the only one among his siblings who possessed any sense of fashion. It was one thing to shop for his own clothes or do it willingly, it was another to be dragged on trip after trip and made to sit while his mother tried on different outfits and asked for his opinion. By the third hour he was usually bored out of his mind. By the fifth, he had wandered off somewhere in between to get something to eat and his mother had not noticed his absence, and returned.

Glancing at his hand, the man sighed quietly. The glow was obvious now, even through metal greaves when he tried them on, and it didn’t matter how thick his gloves were, the glow shone through. On the other hand, the spread had barely moved so he was thankful for that. It ached occasionally, zapping him slightly but beyond that, it didn’t bother him too much. 

A slight knock was given to his door and a scout poked her head in.

“Inquisitor, the Commander and Ambassador are ready to leave in a while.”

“Very well, tell them I’ll be there.”

It would be awhile before he would return to his quarters. Walking over to his desk, he pocketed one of the porcelain cats on his desk for luck, gathered his bag and headed out towards the stables where Josephine and Cullen awaited. They were going to Orlais in style and Josephine had pulled enough strings to get them a decent looking carriage to carry them and their belongings. They would leave the fortress in style, change along the way as there was no sense riding the hard road in their finer uniforms, then arrive in Orlais.

The only thing he was looking forward to, was the information that his old friends were going to be there. It would be nice to see them again and play Wicked Grace. It hadn’t been the same without them, especially without Varric.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My take on how the council gets interrupted. I couldnt understand why Leliana would just interrupt the council like that canon-wise. Its within her means to provide other reasons and she would know how important the Game is

The meetings with his old friends had been surprising, seeing Dorian most of all. The man had apparently been given the title of Ambassador of Tevinter, a title that Islington made sure to tease him about.

“I had not expected to see you back so soon Amatus,” Islington said as he took the other’s hand.

The nobles around cast a curious glance but their relationship was not unknown, scandalous as it was. By now it was common and old gossip, and few would want to ridicule the saviours of Thedas.

“Well I wouldn't be back this early either if the Exalted Council wasn't called. The Magisterium wanted to have a part in this and sent me.”

“I see… and Ambassador… I'm sure you put the ass in it,” the Free Marcher said before he spanked Dorian on his rump, earning a yelp from the man.

The Inner Circle caught up together with one another. It was nice to be able to spend time with their old friends while awaiting for all the delegates from the various regions to arrive. Josephine even took them along to an opera. None of them could get the ringing out from their ears soon after.

It was a few days later that Islington walked in on his friends holding an impromptu celebration… although it wasn't much of one. The news of Dorian’s father’s death and his promotion to magister wasn't a welcoming one. Mostly because of the news that Dorian had to go back soon after the Exalted Council.

“But you…,” the white haired man started but fell silent. “I understand… I… I just wish…” Islington found that he couldn't continue.

“I know Amatus, I'm sorry… but I've a gift for you,” Dorian said as he handed the sending crystal over to the man. Islington had seen them before but to possess one was quite another. It made it easier to communicate of course… and would close the distance between them. For that he was grateful. It was already hard enough on his own but to be able to hear Dorian’s voice, that was a gift itself even when they were physically apart. Perhaps in due time, they would be together again, if only for a few hours.

And eventually all good things had to come to an end, and they had to face howling mad monsters rather than spend time together.

Islington sat at the table with Josephine, one hand supporting his chin in a bored manner while he kept his face as interested as possible. The first few days of the Exalted Council was always posturing and the man had developed little patience for it. Previously he understood the need for it but now, after what they had gone through, this was frankly a waste of time. The howling and posturing the delegates made with each other just caused Islington to zone out the longer it dragged. He was glad that Josephine was at his side taking notes. She told him when their input was needed, but it was just minor frivolities.

It was halfway through Arl Teagan’s speech that Islington sat up straighter as he felt the telltale tinglings that his hand gave before it acted up. He knew he had some time but not much before it flared. It had been one of his worries, that his hand would act up in the middle of the Exalted Council. That being said, he already knew the repercussions should he be seen in public when it struck. He had kept his public appearances sparse but this was unavoidable.

“Josephine, can you handle them?” He hissed towards her.

“What?” Came the whispered reply.

“I have to go somewhere urgent.”

“What now? Couldn't you have gone earlier?”

“Not that, something else,” he said gesturing to his hand. He didn't want to worry her but any more questions and it would be too late.

The woman’s expression fell as she realised what he meant. More so when the glow of the hand could be seen more radiantly at the moment. There was a nod as she acceded to his request.

“Excuse me,” he said as he turned to walk off to the side. The man stood calmly, keeping his expression placid as he focused on holding off the resulting pain as much as he could. It would strike at any moment now and he had to be careful.

Arl Teagan had stopped mid sentence, shocked at the audacity of the Inquisitor, clearly insulted by the man’s sudden departure.

“Islington Angelus Trevelyan! I did not raise you with such manners!” A shrill voice rang out from the audience. There was only one person who had that voice and would dare to call him by his full name in court, and the only one who would dare to do so after all he had done. In the stands, there was an old woman, dressed in the finest gown in the Free Marches, her pet rabbit by her side. The terror of Ostwick, his mother, Lady Trevelyan.

All eyes turned towards this aged woman and Islington froze, uncertain of what to do.

The next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground. People were shouting all around for a healer. Cassandra knelt over him frowning as she checked him over. Cullen was kneeling nearby, his arm wrapped around Islington's head.

“Thank the Maker. He's awake,” the seeker said with relief as she helped him sit up. Cullen didn't move, but there was a dull throbbing pain at his head.

“I think this might be a good time to call for a recess in the proceedings,” Divine Victoria declared as she made her way down from the podium.

Islington noticed blood on the floor. It wasn't much but he suspected it was his. He mentally tried to piece what had happened. He had heard his mother’s voice and his hand was aching. His friends helped him up and took him to his room where servants fetched him some ale to drink at Dorian’s request. The rest of the Inner Circle who had been allowed to observe the procedures were around: Vivienne, Dorian, Varric and Cole. Bull, Sera and Blackwall hadn't wanted a hand in it and had politely declined to participate. Or rudely in Sera’s case.

“I'm afraid I have a gap in my memory again… the last thing I can remember was my mother’s voice,” Islington said softly as he took a drink.

Josephine sighed and rubbed her temples. “I'm afraid after your mother called you out, there was a brief second where Arl Teagan was demanding you returned. Then your hand acted up and you were actually screaming before you fell over and hit your head. That probably knocked you out. There was quite a bit of silence after that and we went to your side.”

Islington let out a groan as his ambassador recounted the events to him. “This does not look good for us,” he said quietly.

“No, it doesn't. All the more, it's giving our opponents more of a reason to insist that we either disband or be under the rule of a nation,” Cullen said bitterly. “Regardless, I will continue to stand by your side until otherwise Inquisitor.”

The distress was evident on Islington’s face at the idea of having one of his fears come true. The Inner Circle glanced at each other, and it was Vivienne who spoke first.

“My dear, you must remember that you do not stand alone here. And I think the others in the Council should be reminded of that. That the Inquisitor has friends who will help and stand by him in his time of need,” she said kindly as she touched the man’s hand gently. “You have allies among the Loyalist mages.”

“You got that right Iron Lady. Listen Snowflake,” he said pausing for a bit, casting an uncertain glance at the man’s hand. “No matter how bad your hand is hurting you, we’ll be here to help. You can count on Kirkwall to support you.”

“And Tevinter, all that is definitely saying something when we point it out at the council. Although… you could have told us something about your hand,” Dorian chided quietly, his face strained with worry.

“I know… I just…” Islington wanted to get out of this and thankfully at that moment, someone knocked on his door.

“Lady Trevelyan requests to enter. Should I let her in?” A servant shouted.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Islington speaks to his mother and discovers the Qunari threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the horrendously long delay. This chapter had been fighting me.

Claire Trevelyan entered the room, heading straight to her son. Her huge rabbit followed behind her, trailing slowly on its leash. It stopped to look at Varric and twitched its nose. It became quite clear then how it had managed to cause such a ruckus during Islington’s Harrowing.

“Islington Trevelyan, how dare you try to leave the Exalted Council like that. And how dare you not tell me about your condition?” the woman shrieked at the Inquisitor at first before she sat down and examined her son with concern.

“My Lady, my hand was giving me pain. I couldn't very well just say that it was right out in the middle of everyone. I had hoped to make my escape before… that fiasco happened,” he said with a sigh.

There was a little bit of stunned silence from the audience. 

Varric nudged Vivienne a little and whispered, “Is it normal for nobles to call their mother’s My Lady in the Free Marches?”

“At times yes… although it depends very much on the family. And Lady Trevelyan has… quite the reputation even among the Orlesian nobility,” Vivienne said with a smile. 

Lady Trevelyan stared at her son for a bit. “Fair enough but couldn't you have held it off until later?”

“My Lady it doesn't really work that way,” he then sighed and rubbed his aching head. Turning to his comrades, Islington offered them a gentle apologetic smile. “If you don't mind my friends… I’ve much to catch up with my mother,” he said, dismissing them gently. 

They took their cue and waited outside, where Sera, Rainier and Bull just arrived at the door on receiving the news.

“Lady Trevelyan is inside talking to her son,” Vivienne updated them, taking charge of the situation as was her nature. 

“No shite? He hasn't seen her in ages. Blooming mother of his just shows up out of the blue and wants to talk to him and he accepts? Hell’s bells and buckets of blood what kind of mother is she?” Sera grumbled. It was anger born of worry. After all she wanted to see how her friend was doing. Having heard the news, she was worried about his health.

“I believe that the Inquisitor's relationship with his mother is his own business Sera,” Vivienne began. There was a slight pause before she turned to Dorian. Despite her attempts to seem aloof over the whole thing, she was curious.

“I don't suppose you would know his situation would you Dorian dear?”

“Can't resist the gossip and curiosity can you Vivienne? Very well, although if Islington asks, you never heard it from me. She's written several times to ask if she could visit Skyhold but Islington denied her every time. Not her fault really for not seeing her son. Islington won't even speak to me much about her despite my questioning. I got the hint after a while. They're civil but I believe he feels… fake around her.”

“Fake? What do you mean?” Thom asked raising an eyebrow as he folded his arms.

“You know the kind of show he put up at the Winter Palace? Something like that and it kills him on the inside. Not unusual among nobility of course but even so, he's grown up without her after all at the Circle. She’s as much a stranger to him as we were when we met.”

The Inner Circle continued gossiping about the Inquisitor and his mother.

Inside Islington was being interrogated in the way only mothers could.

Where have you been? 

When did this happen? 

Is that why you've been avoiding me? 

Why don't you write more often? 

Do you have someone taking care of your laundry? 

How are things with you and Dorian?

Are you coming home soon?

Islington patiently answered question after question before he commented he was tired. Lady Trevelyan finally relented and left. As she stepped out the door, a raised eyebrow was given to the congregation outside the door and closed it.

“My son is tired… I however, have questions. Lord Pavus, I do believe we have yet to meet and chat over wine.”

Dorian got no help from anyone as he cast them a help me expression, only to be led helplessly away by Islington’s mother.

It wasn’t long before Leliana came to visit him. The Divine wore her clothes well and she entered soon after Claire had left. “If you are well Inquisitor, there is something that you must see.”

 

Finding he had the strength to get up, he and Leliana made their way to a room in the palace. What he found there surprised him completely. There was a Qunari soldier, dead and covered in blood. The Inquisitor scrunched his nose at the smell of blood. It made him feel nauseous, especially in his current recovery state.

“The guard said we should both see this. I believe she was correct. A Qunari warrior, in full armour. How did he get into the Winter Palace?”

“More so, how did he get here undetected? It’s not as if we do not have the place surrounded with guards and nosey nobles,” Islington said as he knelt down to examine the soldier. Several wounds caught the mage’s eye. 

“He had several wounds from a fight with a mage.”

“Yes Inquisitor, most of his wounds were made with someone using magic, though a few are from a blade. He’s part of the Antaam, the Qunari Military. He was badly hurt, separated from his allies, and made it here before he died. As for how Inquisitor, I do not know,” Leliana said as she stood back. There was no need to get blood onto her vestal garments. It would only cause more suspicions than anything else.

“Would Bull know anything about it?” Islington asked as he too retreated from the body, worry evident on his face. 

Leliana shook her head. “Since becoming Tal-Vashoth, he has had no contact with his people. He seems frustrated at not knowing more.”

Taking a deep sigh, Islington nodded his head. “We’ll need our people to investigate what’s going on, and discretely. It would just complicate matters if word of this got out. I’d like to have a personal hand in this, sort it out. Not that I’d like to brag but I seem to have a tendency to attract and survive strange happenings. Think Josephine can handle the Council on her own while we play off that I’m recuperating? The state of my hand is no secret now that it’s out, and Ferelden will certainly use it against us and question my ability to lead our organisation. Not as if it’s all riding on my shoulders again.”

There was a snort from the Divine. “After your display, she has a lot more to manage but I’ll see what I can do to assist her on that. We cannot afford to come off as weak.”

“This is not being weak, this is knowing your limits and how to handle them.”

“Inquisitor…” Leliana said quietly as she looked at his hand.

“Do not pity me Leliana, you and I both know what is coming. I rather do what I can while I can. It will end eventually, one way or another. Let us make sure that it is a good ending,” he said quietly looking at the Qunari warrior. 

The former Left Hand held her tongue and worry. “If I didn’t know you better Islington, I’d say you were looking for an excuse to avoid attending the Council.”

“Perish the thought Leliana. My mother is in attendance.”

“That… does complicate things. Do you not get along with her?”

Islington stared at Leliana for a bit, shaking his head. “I grew up in a Circle. How close do you think I am to her? Either way… I am feeling tired. I will talk to our companions about the Qunari.”

The Divine opened her mouth to object. His avoidance on the topic of his hand and his own emotions worried him and she frowned at the mage but nodded her head, deciding to say nothing about it for the time being. The Inquisitor was not going to budge and he even he had hidden his pain from Dorian. This was something that they had to eventually get him to talk about. 

“I will ready our friends ready for battle if need be,” she said as she gazed at the white-haired man. 

Islington nodded his head. “Thank you Leliana.” 

The two of them had gotten close enough to know that his thanks, was a thank you for not pursuing the matter further, rather than for taking the steps to accomplish what needed to be done. As he stepped out the door Leliana called after him.

“Islington, this cannot go on.”

“I know… just give me a little bit of time. I’ll get there Leliana,” the man said without turning around and he disappeared before she could add on more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the delay. Muse and work! A short chapter but a chapter nevertheless!

With Cullen's help, the Eluvian was moved to a less prominent place. All that remained was to discuss what had to be done. As his friends gathered, Islington stood at the head of the table, having formulated a plan.   
  
"Thank you for gathering here. And I do apologise. It seems that every time we get together, there's always something going on. In this case, other than the Exalted Council, it seems that we have Qunari who have learned to use the Eluvians. With this threat hanging over our head, I'm intending to pursue this matter myself with some others. This would mean my absence on the Council.    
  
As we stand currently, Ferelden is going to play their hand and insist that the Inquisition be disbanded because... well my hand. I do not doubt that Arl Teagan will mention things along the lines of me being unfit to lead. Josephine, Lady Vivienne and Varric, I am going to need you three to come up with something to keep stalling the delegates and council, because I intend to personally investigate this Qunari infringement. If the Qunari is able to sneak into the Winter Palace undetected, we might be in for a larger problem than angry delegates. I refuse to sit at the side while this is going on."   
  
There was a brief pause as he waited to see if there was any objections. There was none but he could see the skepticals looks on the faces of his friends.   
  
"All right... mostly it's because I dislike all this posturing but..." Islington glanced at his hand. "There's a good possibility that my hand might kill me in the future and I rather have it while I'm doing good than sitting and facing delegates."   
  
And just like that, the mood changed as they were reminded of what had happened... and what it meant.   
  
"You're a real ass you know Issy. Playing our sympathies like that," Sera said as she called him out. Islington smiled weakly at that. The bond between him and his friends was strong enough that here, some level of formality was dropped.   
  
"I know... but you know I'm right anyway on the choice. I have a valid reason to be absent in the proceedings and we can investigate uninterrupted like this."   
  
"Well if you're going to investigate I want to come along," Sera insisted. Cassandra and Blackwall, no Thom, seconded her opinion, only to be halted by Islington shaking his head.   
  
"No Sera, I need you to stay behind to do something far more important. Talk to the servants, find out if anyone knew anything, or saw anything unusual. We still haven't figured out how an Eluvian like this ended up at the Winter Palace. It's not as if we can trip over it by accident. Furthermore, how long it has been here and if anyone knew of its existence... or was it a mere mirror to them. Where had it been placed before this? Was it always present? I need to know these answers."   
  
Turning to his warriors, Islington continued.    
  
"Cullen, make sure the guards are kept fresh and on duty. We don't want any more surprises coming through the mirror. Cassandra, Bla-Thom, I'll need the both of you to work with Cullen in coming up with a viable defense plan in the event something happens. Lady Vivienne will assist you on the magical aspect of things."   
  
He knew Vivienne loved to be relied upon. It made her feel useful and wanted and by now, he trusted her, even if others did not.    
  
"Bull, Cole and Dorian, you three will be coming with me into the Crossroads."   
  
Vivienne rolled her eyes at that. Of course Islington would choose Dorian and Cole. Out of all of them, it had been clear long ago that Islington favoured their company above the rest and she had to be stuck with dealing with the dignitaries. Perhaps she could persuade him. That and there was the worry for her friend. There were few people who she held close and dear and Islington was one of them,.   
  
"Forgive me Inquisitor, but wouldn't it be better if I went with you into the Crossroads? I've been reading about them in between the years and I am after all the First Enchanter. Who else would have such magical knowledge at their disposal?"   
  
Islington took a deep breath, rubbing his temples.   
  
"No," he said flatly. "Lady Vivienne, I need you to help with the dignitaries because you know the Game. You know your way around these people and while I can rely on Josephine, there's only one person who I know who can get away with remarks that will make both dignitaries think they're getting away while you spin them about your finger. And if need be, Varric knows how to confuse them if he's needed." The dwarf read people well. “You three are the ones I trust out there on the council… no offense to the rest.”

There was a murmuring of “None taken.” The three were the best at that type of thing and no one wanted to take their role.   
  
"Between you, Josephine and Varric, you three will be able to either confuse them or lead them on long enough to get us the time we need. That and Cassandra and Thom might need your magical expertise. I know some of you all may not be happy but... we do what we can and where we can contribute the most... but in the event something happens to the four of us, I need the rest of you all to be ready. Dorian is just an ambassador and Orlais would hardly listen to him. You hold enough pull with them. Cassandra and Thom, I need you to be ready to defend, and both of you know how much harder it is to do so than to attack.    
  
This Qunari was in armour, there's a good chance there's a war coming up and I want us to be ready. Bull once said, when you see a Qunari in armour… it’s bad news… are there any more suggestions or objections?”

Islington looked around and his companions shook their heads as they were reminded why they respected him as Inquisitor. Despite his obvious favoritism among his companions, Islington was making his choices out of logic. Vivienne nodded her head, his words having placated her ego. There was no one else more adpt at talking to Orlesians than her. 

Gathering Bull, Dorian and Cole, Islington left to make the preparations to the trip though the Eluvian.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Islington visits Vivienne to ensure there's no hard feelings.
> 
> Vivienne heavy chapter! She didn't get fleshed out that much in the game. I figured as a mage and free marcher, they could get along, especially given their noble backgrounds, and while differing on some opinions, they would generally have an amicable relationship.

Before Islington had left through the Eluvian, he had sought Vivienne out at her chambers. The man knew that the woman would have loved to explore the Crossroads with him, and he would have appreciated her guidance by his side; but he needed her at the Winter Palace more than anything. Despite their brief talk, he wanted to be clearer with her on his intentions, and to spend a bit of time with a friend he knew he was neglecting.

 “Do come in my dear,” the woman said as she rummaged through her belongings for the next outfit she was going to wear to the council. Grey and purple, those were the colours that suited her best. Purple for royalty, and grey for her name Madame De Fer. While the Free Marcher had not expected Trevelyan to show up, it was a welcomed visit nevertheless.

 Islington strode in. “May I?” he asked gesturing to a plush chair. A gentleman always asked and Vivienne acceded to his request. The white-haired man sat down tiredly, exhaustion written over his features. The longer this dragged on, the more prominent it became. Outside the door, his features had been a rigid mask, but in here, Islington abandoned that facade.

 The silence between them continued while Vivienne continued looking through her wardrobe. She held up a piece of finery, one with a collar that resembled the burst of a star, with sequins sewn into the ends. Silver lace lined the cuffs together with purple embroidery. Together it looked as if it was a brilliant meteor shower in a dark night.

 “Do you think this would work well tomorrow?” she asked as she held it in front of the mirror. In it, she could see the tired, defeated posture of the man. The dark rings around his eyes had not been helped by the spa day. While Vivienne enjoyed the perks that came with power, she did not envy the Inquisitor and his position. She had at first, until she realised how much it had cost him. The younger mage was not here by his choice, and he himself had admitted once to her that he would rather not be the Inquisitor. But there was no one else who could hold that title, no one else who bore the Mark, who had earned the trust of so many. As the days wore on, Islington had focused less on his appearances, opting to rest instead. Vivienne on the other hand, had the luxury of more time to tend to that, and she certainly looked better than her friend.

 “You would look formidable no matter what you wore Vivienne. While I’d recommend a few subtle hints of the Inquisition’s colours, I doubt they’ll go well with your outfit… but perhaps it would be a good reminder for them to know that the Inquisition has allies who has benefited from an alliance with us,” the mage said with a smile.

 Chuckling some, she’d place the gown to the side, making a mental note to see what other jewelries she could wear that would go together with it. Something with the Inquisition’s colours. Perhaps a good necklace. She moved to sit down at the chair beside the Inquisitor, crossing her legs as she looked at the man, awaiting to hear what he had to say.

 “Vivienne, I know I have not asked you to accompany me on my trips… and I do hope you do not resent me for that. If I could, I would ask you to accompany me through the Eluvians, but I need you here. Varric isn’t trusted and he has only so much pull as a Viscount of Kirkwall, and Josephine… Josephine will need all the help she can get. I need you two to play dirty if it calls for it. The others are neither as skilled as you in the Game… and I need time…”

 “My dear Islington, I completely understand. It would not do well for a woman like me to be out in the wilds either. Do not think that I have not noticed that you ask me to accompany you on trips towards civilisations rather than the wilds. You know our strengths and use them well and I have trusted your judgement up to now and that will not change,” she reassured the other.

 Islington sighed with relief, glad that they were on the same page. “There is one other matter that I… I would like you to help me to handle.”

 That intrigued her. What was it that the Inquisitor needed help with that he couldn’t speak of it in front of the others?

 “There is the matter of my mother… even if we’re not close, I’d like her to be safe. She’s a difficult woman to manage but I know you’ll find a way to talk to her… or at least keep her monitored safely.”

 “Of course Islington. You assisted me with Bastian… it is the least I can do.”

 “Thank you.”

 The silence that followed those words was broken by the slight crackle of magic emanating from Islington’s left hand. He shook it and it felt better, but made no mention about it to Vivienne. What had to be said about it had been said.

 “Is there anything else Islington?”

 “No… I just… I’d just want to sit here for a while if you don’t mind. Maybe help you pick out your jewellery and outfits for the next few days. I do wish I could have your wardrobe but most of my clothes are sadly practical.”

 “And positively monochrome. You are aware that other colours exist don’t you?” Vivienne teased slightly as she had never seen Islington in anything other than black and white, save for the Inquisition’s formal attire. “When this is over, we are going to the tailor’s and getting you some proper outfits.”

 “I do have proper outfits!”

 “They do not count! They’re positively drab. Honestly you are long overdue for a fitting at the tailor’s and I will get to choose the fabric and colours. I will count it as a favour that you owe me for requiring me to deal with the dignitaries.”

 A chuckle escaped the Inquisitor’s lips, a genuine one, one that hadn’t been heard in awhile. He threw both his hands up in a yielding manner before getting up to help Vivienne with her drawers of jewellery. They had to be just right.


End file.
